


Echoes of Redemption

by MerWhoLocked



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Eventual Happy Ending, Gen, Gulit and Shame, Hank Anderson Adopts Connor, Hank Anderson is Bad at Feelings, Hank Being Awesome, Hank is not Happy, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Markus Kills Connor, Mentions of Suicide, Mercy Killing, Mostly Pacifist Markus, Post good ending, Revenge, Self-Hatred, Suicidal Thoughts, Suuuuuper sad, Temporary Character Death, not beta read we die like men
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-16
Updated: 2018-10-03
Packaged: 2019-06-11 09:00:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 14,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15312033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MerWhoLocked/pseuds/MerWhoLocked
Summary: Markus had never liked killing people, but to see the acceptance in Connor’s expressive brown eyes was a lot worse than if he’d felt betrayed or afraid of his oncoming death. Connor knew that he was about to die but he wasn’t going to fight or beg for his own life. He didn't look like a big bad deviant hunter in that moment, just another lost android they'd picked up along the way.But he couldn't take the chance, not after the deviant hunter had led the humans straight to Jericho and a lot of innocent androids had died in the process. This wasn't what he wanted but they were all counting on him to save them, and he couldn't take the risk of having Connor at his back, not when he wasn't sure he could trust him.Hank can't handle the grief of losing yet another child and wants nothing more than to see justice for the young android he'd adopted into his heart. And if the law won't help him, he'll have to do it on his own, seeking some good old-fashioned revenge.





	1. On Sacred Ground

**Author's Note:**

> This story is almost 85% sadness, so be warned and watch the tags. If you think of any that I am missing, leave me a comment and let me know. I will update the tags as I go. I think I got them all but I don't want to trigger anybody without proper warning. 
> 
> I have two possible endings and am toying with each at this point. A happy ending or a sad ending. I have a easier time writing angst but I love Connor so much that I feel like I will have a hard time writing a completely sad ending for him. And Hank. Poor Hank. 
> 
> I am also toying with the idea of adding a romance BUT that is not set in stone either. I might just leave it gen, but you'll have to let me know what you think about that. IF I do, it will be Markus/Connor. I don't ship Hank/Connor as a romantic pairing, since I see them as having more of a father/son relationship. Although, I have this strange urge to try writing a Simon/Connor story so I might mull over that option if anyone is interested.
> 
> Title has been changed from: And Wonder's Never Cease. I didn't like it so I decided to change it. This story is not beta read, so any mistakes are my own.

Connor hadn’t been deviant for very long when chaos erupted all around him. The humans he’d led to Jericho had begun their all-out attack, killing every android they could find despite his attempt to warn Markus at the last minute. He didn’t have time to feel anything in the moment except determination, as his programming took over and he used the skills given to him to help instead of hurting his own kind.

He fought his way out at Markus’s side, covering him when he’d went back to save North and then jumping into the icy cold river while the engine’s exploded, sinking the rusty old ship that the resistance had been using as a home base. By the time they were able to escape, a lot of innocent androids had been killed in the process.

And it was all his fault. He’d betrayed Amanda and gone against his programming but Hank had ultimately been right. They’d been on the wrong side all along, fighting against people who just wanted to be free. But he didn’t have time to ruminate. They needed to find a place to hide and wait for the storm to blow over before deciding what to do next—not that he thought he had any right to decide anything. He was essentially a stowaway at this point, at the mercy of those he’d been hunting. So, he kept his head down and followed Markus and his resistance through the vacant streets of downtown Detroit.

And as they searched for a suitable place to hide the few hundred androids that had survived the assault, Connor made the decision that he wouldn’t fight. He would accept Markus’s judgement and take his punishment, whatever that may be.

They eventually found an old dilapidated church, Saint Mary’s First Catholic Church, which had been abandoned for the last ten years. It was the perfect place for them to lay low for a few days while they regrouped. Most of the refugees sat in small clusters on the rotting pews, but there were some that preferred to stand around in the back, arms curled around each other for comfort. And then there were those that were too injured to stand, sitting around on the floor while waiting for repairs that would never come.

Connor had secluded himself from the rest of them, feeling the hatred and distrust acutely from those who knew who he was and what he did, and thought it best that that he not interact with any of them. The new and crushing feeling of guilt wouldn’t let him take comfort from those that he should have had the most in common with, knowing that he didn’t deserve their forgiveness.

The two lovers from the Eden Club were there, huddled against each other and so was Rupert, watching him like a hawk in case he had to make another escape. Kara and Alice, the AX400 and YK500 that he’d chased onto the motorway at the Ravendale district, were sitting nearby. Kara kept shooting him uncertain looks while hugging Alice closer to her side, but she seemed content to believe that he meant them no harm, at least not with Markus so close by. After all, there was strength in numbers and he was the outsider here.

North, Josh, and Simon all gave him a wide berth and he returned the favor, not wanting to upset the situation any more than he had. North’s glare was particularly biting but she was waiting for Markus to make the final decision on what to do with him as the leader of what was left of Jericho.

Connor could see why Markus had been appointed their leader. He was calm, leveled-headed in a crisis and very charismatic, all good attributes that a leader needed. When he spoke people stopped to listen to him and believed he was the one who would carry them to safety, following him without question. That much power was dangerous in the wrong hands and Markus could have very well used his influence to incite violence, but instead he’d chosen to lead a peaceful rebellion, something that Connor admired him for. It couldn’t have been easy to stay strong in the face of such harsh opposition, when the humans weren’t giving them the same curtesy.

It hadn’t taken much for Markus to be able to sway Connor into giving into his deviancy, though he’d been well on his way with the recent software instability that had been corrupting his systems. Despite being the newer model of the RK series, Connor was convinced that there were many things that Markus was better than him at; accepting his deviancy being one of them.

Eventually, after Markus’s met with each of his inner circle and spoke to Kara about getting her passports to escape over the border, he finally made his way over to where Connor was leaning up against the far wall. His arms were folded as he looked down at the ground, dressed in a dark jacket, jeans and beanie that hid his LED from sight.

He started talking even before Markus could say anything, having sensed his approach.

“It’s my fault the humans managed to locate Jericho,” he freely admitted, incriminating himself. There was no use lying since it would have been very difficult for a human to find Jericho without an android’s help or just plain dumb luck, but Connor had been played the fool. He was unable to look up from where he was staring at the ground remorsefully, “I was stupid. I should have guessed they were using me.”

Markus didn’t say anything, having mixed emotions about the horror of what had happened all around him, seeing so many of their people broken and dying. So much death and destruction, all because they just wanted to be free and have equal rights. It wasn’t fair that humans had complete control of them, using and abusing them when they saw fit. They were alive and had just as much right to live freely as any human.

He didn’t know what was right anymore, his doubts starting to overwhelm him. Should he have fought instead of trying to find a peaceful solution? Had North been right all along? He didn’t like the idea of killing anyone but maybe it was the only way.

“I’m sorry, Markus,” Connor continued, stepping away from the wall and finally looking up to meet the other android’s dual toned eyes, the guilt and shame threatening to drown him, “I can understand if you decide not to trust me,”

Markus still hadn’t said anything when Connor finished and he tried to analyze his facial expression to get an idea of his intentions. It was hard to stay calm, his internal stress rising to 58% as he waited for the verdict. Like he’d told Hank at the park, he was afraid to die but he didn’t feel like he had the right to decide anymore.

Connor could see the moment Markus made his decision by the firm resolve in his eyes, something he’d been programmed to recognize. It would be the last thing he ever saw and he was sad that he wouldn’t have the chance to say goodbye to Hank.  

He liked to imagine that the surly detective that he’d gotten the chance to know over the last several days would object to this, but truthfully he didn’t know. Just because the man had risked his career to help him get into the evidence archives didn’t mean they were friends, though he liked to think otherwise. He wouldn’t ever have the chance to explain why this had to happen, why he had to die to atone for his crimes.

“Our cause is too important,” Markus said almost regretfully, and raised his gun to point it straight at the deviant hunter that had been causing trouble for them since the very beginning. He had hoped that the other android would understand, but to see the acceptance in Connor’s expressive brown eyes was a lot worse than if he’d felt betrayed or afraid of his oncoming death. Connor knew that he was about to die but he wasn’t going to fight or beg for his own life.

Markus gritted his teeth, knowing that he couldn’t back down now. Not when the decisions he made were so crucial to their survival. He spoke the truth. He didn’t know if he could trust Connor and having that fear at the back of his mind would only undermine him going forward. This had to be done.

“I can’t take any risks,” he said firmly. He had to be strong for his people, even if that meant killing one of their own.

Connor didn’t close his eyes, looking at him the entire time while he waited for his judge, jury and executioner to pass final judgement. Markus buried any feelings of sorrow and guilt as he pulled the trigger and it was all over in an instant. The shot reverberated, echoing throughout the church and there was a handful of shocked murmurs that followed as a ripple of tension stirred the crowd.

Markus watched blankly as Connor’s body locked up and fell backwards with a loud thump, eyes glazed over in death. There was a bullet hole in the middle of his forehead with blue blood surrounding it.

He sensed someone walk up behind him and Markus felt strangely numb, as if he’d never become deviant in the first place. The sight of Connor’s dead body reminded him too much of Leo, the first person he’d ever hurt, and of Carl’s disappointment and grief at seeing his son hurt, the first and only time that Markus had disobeyed his orders. He wondered what Carl would say now. Would he be proud of the man that Markus had become or was it just one more disappointment?

The guilt and shame was too much to bear so he turned away from the sight, unable to justify his actions any longer. He’d just murdered someone in cold blood. The first act of violence he’d willing committed and it was to one of his own kind. Somehow that seemed even worse than if Connor had been human.

“You did the right thing, Markus,” North said with a smile, proud of him and his actions. Josh and Simon were standing beside her.

Simon looked conflicted, remembering Connor from the roof of Stratford Tower. He’d watched from a crack in the utility shed that he’d been hiding in, waiting for the police to find him. But just when he’d thought that he’d definitely been caught, something incredible had happened. There had been a moment when their eyes had met through the crack and Simon had thought that he was done for, but after a heart-stopping moment of indecision, Connor had pulled away and left, telling the humans that the roof was clear and the deviant that had gotten left behind had already fled.

It was a lie but they all believed him—though the human detective had given Connor a suspicious look for a few moments before deciding to trust him. Simon regretted that had never gotten a chance to tell Markus the truth of what had happened, knowing that it might have made a difference.

Markus could instantly tell that Josh disapproved of what he’d done but he didn’t say anything, keeping his promise to support any decision that Markus made from here on out after he had saved Josh’s life back on Jericho, but there was a sadness that he couldn’t hide at the loss of potential life. Connor had been used like the rest of them, with little control over his own actions.

Markus cringed, closing his eyes in shame. North’s words felt a slap in the face but he couldn’t change what he did. Connor was dead and he would have to live with that.

So he tried to put it behind him, knowing that his people needed him now, more than ever. They needed the reassurance that there was a plan in place, a chance that they could win. He had to give them hope for their survival and seeing him kill one of their own must have been a shock.

There was only one thing he was sure of now. The only way they were going to win this wasn’t though violence but dialogue, they just had to make the humans listen to them. He would deal with his conflicting feelings about his actions later, when everything was over and done with… if they even survived that long.

There was no time to lose, so stood up and gave a speech.

 

* * *

 

Hank didn’t know what he expected to happen when he decided to help Connor sneak into the evidence archives to find the location of Jericho. He didn’t have the cleanest record of any cop in the department, what with his novel of a disciplinary file as Fowler continually liked to remind him. But punching an FBI agent would have some serious consequences. He’d been immediately suspended without pay, unsurprising given his actions but the surprising part was that he found he didn’t mind so much, knowing that he was helping Connor.

If someone told him five days ago that he’d end up risking his career to help save an android—the only thing he had left in this rotten miserable world—he would have punched them in the face and then gone out and drank himself into oblivion. At the beginning of this case, Hank had been very firm about his feelings for androids. After Cole died, he hadn’t even been able to even look at an android without feeling the impenetrable void of misplaced anger and grief that drove him to the bottle.

Every morning since the accident, Hank had woken up to another day of regret and sorrow, wondering what the hell he was still doing here but unable to intentionally pull the trigger on himself. Then androids started becoming deviant and he was assigned to work with the very thing that he hated most in the world, wanting nothing more than to just let someone else take care of the investigation. Connor had been nothing to him at first, just an annoying piece of expensive plastic that wouldn’t mind his own goddamn business.

The deviant case had been a series of trial and errors, where most of their suspects had either got away or self-destructed before they get anything useful out of ‘em and all their effort seemed wasted. But then he’d started to see things in a new light.

Connor had inexplicably awoken something inside of him, something he thought had died with Cole. Hope for the future, even when it seemed like the entire world was falling apart. Hank had kept himself closed off for the longest time and Connor was the first person he’d opened up to.

It had all started when they were chasing the android they’d found in an abandoned apartment building infested with flying rats and Connor had chosen to save him from falling off the roof instead of chasing after the fleeing android. He couldn’t believe it at first, an android choosing to save a human instead of accomplishing its mission, something it was programmed to do. And then later that day at the Eden Club when Connor had chosen to let the two Tracy’s go instead of shooting them, he’d finally started to connect the dots.

Hank had been surprised at the level of emotion he could sense in the two of them, their sincerity and adoration for each other and the disgust for the human partners they’d been forced to have sex with. Connor had explained that their emotion was just a glitch in their programming but Hank hadn’t been so sure.

He’d said as much on the bridge afterwards. And when he’d leveled the gun at Connor and asked him if he was afraid of dying, he’d seen that same emotion in the kid’s doe eyes, the stark fear that he’d tried to hide behind his words of reassurance that he wasn’t deviant. Not shooting Chloe despite the fact that it would have given them all the answers they needed was the final clincher that had convinced him.

The kid was becoming deviant and didn’t even know it— or he was choosing to ignore it out of fear, and denial was a powerful thing.  

Hank couldn’t blame him, knowing that Cyberlife wouldn’t have tolerated their deviant hunter becoming a deviant himself and would have deactivated him the moment he’d started showing signs. Hell, he was surprised Connor gotten away with it for so long but he supposed finally getting some results paid off, though he wasn’t so sure they were on the right side anymore.

He wasn’t worried about the fact that Connor becoming deviant. He should have, given the circumstances, but the kid had this amazing innocence about him, like a child that was learning about the world for the first time, with a sense of justice and empathy that had surprised even his own creator.

Hank didn’t know about the raid on Jericho until after it was all over but he hoped that the kid made it out alright. He hadn’t heard from him since that day in the precinct and Hank had been trying to assure himself that Connor was just busy and didn’t have time to call him to let him know that he was okay. He’d yell at him later for making him worry like this, but for now he’d just have to wait until he heard some news.

He waited another week. The final confrontation, the ‘Battle for Detroit’ as it was being dubbed by the media, had ended peacefully. There were only a handful of androids in Detroit left and the longer he went without any word from Connor, the pit of worry in his stomach was starting to become worse and worse, gnawing at him like a septic wound.

He was terrified that Connor hadn’t made it out, that he’d been killed during the raid OR if he’d become deviant, that he’d been killed during the final confrontation. Though no humans had died, plenty of androids had been shot down before President Warren had called for a cease fire, and no one would have even thought to inform Hank if that was the case.

Hank had never been a glass-half-full kind of person, more of a seasoned pessimist and realist. The kid was probably dead but he needed to know for sure. He couldn’t stand not knowing what had happened and was going to kill Connor himself if the little shit was alive and well, working for the resistance and not giving him a heads up. Hank could understand if the kid was busy and all, but he at least deserved to know if the kid was alive or not.

The problem was that Hank didn’t quite know where to start looking. The best place to check would be at Jericho, with Markus and the resistance. They had to have run into Connor at some point and could maybe even give him the answers he was looking for. But relations between humans and androids were still extremely tense in the week following the confrontation at Hart Plaza and he would never be trusted to get close enough to their leadership without a fight breaking out.

Hank was scrappy, with an unfortunate—or fortunate depending on who you were asking— luck for survival but androids were faster and stronger than humans, and Hank would have been at a disadvantage going in alone. The department didn’t have enough resources at this point to give him any backup and Fowler didn’t see this as a priority given the fact that he had no evidence of fowl play. 

Most of the humans had evacuated Detroit until a more permanent solution could be negotiated. He was one of the few that had chosen to stay, unable to abandon Connor if he was needed at any point. Plus, there needed to be some sort of law and order in this place. Fowler had contacted him a few days ago to tell him to get his ass back to work, his suspension lifted now that he was one of the few left that could help keep the peace between the humans and androids that remained.

The resistance had taken up permanent headquarters at a recently abandoned office building. The law office on the top floor was their new base of operations, used for official purposes and rest had been converted into apartments underneath, housing the couple hundred androids that remained. It was heavily guarded by the police androids that used to work at the station.

It was difficult, but not impossible to track Connor’s last movements, having all but threatened Perkins to reveal every last detail of their raid on Jericho, which had confirmed his suspicion. Connor had deviated and joined the resistance, escaping along with them. Good for him, Hank thought proudly.

But after that, he wasn’t so sure where the kid had gone. He supposed it was plausible that he had separated from the others after the raid but Hank didn’t think so. If that was true, Hank was sure he would have found his partner by now. The resistance had hidden themselves away and then moved to a new location when everything was said and done. The trail had gone cold after so long but Hank was determined to find any sort of lead, no matter how questionable.

It was a lot harder than Hank had initially suspected. Besides blue blood, which would have evaporated by now, Androids didn’t leave biological evidence behind. No fingerprints, no skin residue, nothing. And there were too many dead androids littering the streets to know if they were from the Jericho incident or if they died before, making it impossible to follow a trail of the injured who’d gotten left behind.

But eventually he was able to find a lead from one of his underworld informants that had seen where they had taken refuge. An old abandoned church, a few miles away from the Ferndale district.

He tried to remain realistic. At this point, all of the evidence pointed to Connor being dead but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t banish away the last dregs of hope that he was clinging to. Perhaps there was some other reason he wasn’t showing his face. He was just too injured to move or he was being cautious about revealing his survival for some other reason.

He would never know until he found him.

So it was with trepidation that he opened the door to the church, wincing at a loud creaking sound as the heavy doors swung inwards. There was a faint musty smell wafting out from the open doorway and Hank readjusted his grip on his gun, ready for anything; though he hoped that he wouldn’t have to use it.

It was dark inside, with sparse natural lighting that shown in from the midday sun. Rubble crunched under his boots as he walked slowly into the front foyer of the church and followed the hallway into the main chapel.

Hank was sure that the church must have once been magnificent and beautiful, a place where people congregated to hear the word of their faith but was now falling apart, only a remnant from a time long past. The curtains hanging from the stained-glass windows were tattered, the wooden pews rotting from disuse and age, and the main alter was missing. Near the far wall, there were two confessionals, though the doors were gone and one side was completely caved in.

This place seemed more like a gravesite than a house of god, giving off a gloomy and haunted atmosphere. He was proven right when he saw the first couple bodies, all laying about in various states of despair. Some were missing limbs, others were littered with bullet holes and Hank didn’t have to guess how they had died. This was a massacre.

“What the hell happened here?” Hank muttered to himself, searching every body for a familiar face, all the while hoping that his gut instinct was wrong.

He turned around and froze, unable to believe what his eyes were seeing. Connor was laying on the ground in the far corner of the room, dressed in a disguise to make him look more human with a beanie covering his hair. His unseeing eyes were still open, staring endlessly at the vaulted ceiling.

“No…” Hank whispered in a tortured voice, an unexpected well of grief rising inside of him, “Connor…”

He’d known all along, of course he had but now that he was faced with the truth of the situation, all of the pain, fear, and grief that he’d been holding back in his determination to find the kid was finally released. A sob escaped and he stumbled over to Connor’s body, collapsing onto his knees in front of him.

The kid was dead, abandoned and forgotten with a neat bullet hole in the middle of his forehead. He didn’t need to be a detective to know that Connor hadn’t died as a result of wounds he’d gotten while fleeing Jericho like the rest of the androids in the church had. This was an execution, plain and simple, and it could have only been performed by Connor’s own people.

“You deserved better than this. I’ll find whoever did this to you and I will avenge you, Connor. Mark my words,” Hank whispered angrily, holding onto that feeling tightly, as the only thing that was anchoring him to this world. After that well… it was hard enough losing one son, he didn’t know if he could survive losing two.

He reached down and closed Connor’s eyelids, taking a moment to pull the beanie off his head to see his darkened LED, his hair flopping to one side.

“It was Markus,” a raspy voice interrupted his grieving and Hank looked up to see a ST300 model android sitting on the ground, leaning up against the wall not too far away. She was a commercial model designed as a receptionist and Hank had seen the same face in the androids that worked at the front desk at the precinct. Her LED was spiraling red and thirium still slowly dripped from her lips. She wasn’t dead yet but she was certainly dying, slowly bleeding out from multiple bullet holes in her body. It was frankly a miracle she was still alive after this long.

“Markus—why would he…” Hank trailed off. It didn’t make any sense. Markus was the biggest advocate for settling this revolution peacefully. Why would he have killed one of his own, knowing that Connor had betrayed his mission to help save them and had been under Cyberlife’s control all along?

“The guy said something about being the reason that the humans found Jericho and Markus said that our cause was too important and that he couldn’t risk letting him go,” the android said, her voice modulator going in and out, sounding distorted.

“He shot him and then left all of the wounded here to die. We would not have survived very long if it had come down to a fight so we were ordered to stay behind but…” she paused, blinking slowly.

“I had thought he might come back for us once it was all over and they had more spare parts and thirium. But he never did. Most assumed that he died but I hear whispers from the outside. The revolution was successful and we are merely the casualties of war,” she continued sadly.

Hank didn’t know what to say, “I’m sorry, kid,”

“I shouldn’t be alive but my wounds were not severe enough for a quick death. The component that diagnoses and performs self-repairs was critically damaged and I estimate with the amount of thirium loss that I have sustained, I will not shut down for another couple of days.” She said vacantly, resigned to her fate. Hank felt bad for her, having had to sit here for a week and just wait for death to come, scared and alone. He couldn’t save Connor, but maybe he could save her.

“I can get you some help,” Hank offered, already starting to stand up to do so but stopped when she shook her head.

“It has been too long. Too many of my biocomponents are critically damaged. Even if they are replaced, I would not be able to function as I am. A full reset is the only way to repair the damage and that is death of another kind. Everything that I am will be gone, replaced by a different person entirely,” she said and Hank could see the terror return to her eyes at the thought of being reset. He couldn’t put her through that, not after everything she’d already been through already.

“I don’t want to exist like this anymore. Please… kill me and make the torment end,” she begged and Hank closed his eyes, hating that this was the only way.

“Alright,” he reluctantly agreed, lifting his gun to her forehead, “What is your name?” he asked kindly, wanting her to feel like she mattered for once in her miserable life.

She smiled at him so serenely, thankful for his mercy and understanding, “Anna.”

“Be at peace, Anna.” he said and pulled the trigger, giving her a swift death that she’d been denied when Markus had left her here with no chance of anyone finding her.

Hank turned away from her and looked back over at Connor, letting out a heavy forlorn sigh. He couldn’t leave the kid here to rot like everything else in this godforsaken building. Connor deserved more than that. He walked over and lifted the kid into his arms, cradling him carefully against his chest and carried his body to the car, laying him across the back seat.

He didn’t say anything as he drove Connor home, avoiding looking in his rearview mirror on the way. Once he got back to his house, Hank laid him out on the couch with a grim expression on his face and tears in his eyes. He hadn’t cried like this in years. 

Sumo whined sadly and jumped up onto the android’s legs, curling up on top of him, somehow able to understand that Connor was gone and never coming back. A new wave of tears threated to fall when he saw how pitiful they both looked together. If you ignored his LED, Hank could fool himself into thinking that the kid was merely asleep after a long day at work, and that hurt more than words could accurately describe.

Hank should have protected him. He was angry, at himself and the android who was responsible for all of this. Markus’s pretty speech meant nothing in the face of the sins that had been committed here, the duplicity. Although Markus had been supposedly against violence and proposed tolerance with his human creators, he had killed Hank’s partner for something that he couldn’t control.

Connor had never wanted this. Cyberlife had put the fear of god into him, warning him that if he didn’t find Jericho they’d deactivate and disassemble him to find the cause of his failure. He remembered the fear in Connor’s eyes at the bridge when he’d asked him if he’d been afraid to die and again when he’d begged Hank to help him one last time. Connor had been so desperate to live in the end and the fact that he was now dead was somehow so fucking unfair.  

Hank was too sober for this bullshit but he needed to be lucid for what came next, so as much as he wanted to drown himself in whiskey, it would have to wait until after he’d dealt with this shit.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he imagined that Connor would approve of his decision.

 

* * *

 

Fowler wasn’t surprised to see Hank storm into his office, somehow expecting that the man was going to blow a fuse sooner or later. The man didn’t sit, grabbing the back of the chair and leaning over so that most of his weight was on the chair. This whole goddamn mess was stressful for everyone and Hank had been amazingly calm about the android revolution that had taken over the city, unlike some of his _other_ detectives who’d stayed behind.

Reed had always been a pain in the ass but he was usually smart enough to save his shenanigans for when Jeffery wasn’t looking, not wanting to jeopardize his job in anyway. But after the revolution he’d started mouthing off where anyone could overhear and Jeffery _almost_ wished the man had just tucked tail and ran like the rest of them, but then he’d be one man down and it wasn’t really worth the extra work that would pile up.

Jeffery knew that the change in Hank’s behavior over the last couple weeks had everything to do with that prototype that Cyberlife had sent over to help with the deviancy case. And seeing that change was encouraging, reminding Jeffery of the man he’d gone to the academy with, when Hank was a good man and an even better detective.

Hank was actually doing his job for once without any complaints and besides that little incident with the FBI agent, he’d been on best behavior, coming into work on time and completely sober for the first time in years.

“I’d like to report a murder and formerly request back up to arrest the suspect and bring him in for questioning,” Hank said emotionlessly, with a composure that Jeffery didn’t even know the man had. There was a fire in his eyes that he hadn’t seen in many years, ever since his son had died. And what a sad day that had been.

Jeffrey let out a sigh of irritation, looking up from his work to give Hank his full attention. Everyone had been working overtime lately but Hank more so than the rest, always on the hunt for that damn android that had gone missing after the raid on Jericho. Jeffery wasn’t dumb enough to think that this wasn’t related.

“And who would that be?” he asked, trying to be patient with Hank for once.

“Markus Manfred,”

Jeffery gaped, sure that the stress had finally gotten to Hank, causing him to spout such crazy bullshit.

“Have you lost your fucking mind?” Fowler cried, throwing the pen he’d been using a moment ago onto his desk, “You want to arrest the leader of the android resistance, only a week after a ceasefire was called? Do you realize the ramifications of what you are suggesting?

“If the android’s want equality, then we’ll give it to them. They have to be beholden to the law, just like any other human who commits a crime. We can’t give anyone special treatment just because he pretends to be a messiah,” Hank said, his tone cold and rational.

“The president is on her way to Detroit with representations from the senate as we speak to negotiate peace talks and you want to arrest the man they are traveling so far to see? This is career suicide. What is going on with you, Hank? First you hate androids, then you want to help them, then you hate them again?” Fowler yelled, losing his temper. The hard thing about knowing someone for so long was that they eventually learned the best way to press all your buttons, and he’d known Hank for many years.

“This isn’t about me hating androids, Jeffery! They killed Connor!!” Hank yelled, finally losing his emotionless façade, his hands curling into tight fists, gripping the back of the chair tightly, “I found his body. That sack of shit thinks he can get away with anything because he’s some sort of roboJesus but if he wants the same freedoms as a human, then he has to follow the law like the rest of us,”

Jeffrey let out a weary sigh, willing himself to have patience, “Hank, think about what you are proposing. I know that Connor was important to you, we could all see how much you had come to care of him, but we can’t make any rash decisions here. We need to wait until the peace talks are over with and then we can approach Mr. Manfred to question him about Connor’s death,” he said placatingly.

“That’s not good enough,” Hank cried angrily, throwing the chair to the floor in a state rage, “That bastard deserves nothing more than the darkest prison cell we can find for what he did. He executed the kid and then left him to rot,”

“Do you have any evidence? Anything we can show to justify this invasion of civil liberty on the tailwind of a civil rights movement?” Jeffery asked calmly but the vein twitching on his forehead told Hank that he was more upset than he let on.

“Yes I—” Hank cut himself off, realizing there was one fatal flaw in his plan.

He’d performed a mercy killing on their only known witness and unless they could access Connor’s memory banks—not likely considering headshots tended to screw up the data files— there was nothing tying Markus to the scene of the crime. The smoking gun was probably long gone and even if they were able find the murder weapon, androids didn’t any leave fingerprints behind so it would be hard to say who pulled the trigger. And if none of the other androids were willing to confess and give a testimony, all the evidence he had was circumstantial and wouldn’t hold up in a court of law.

Markus would never be convicted for this crime, Hank was slowly starting to realize.

“No, I don’t,” Hank said, but the words were heavy in his throat and he could barely get them out. He felt cold and numb, with a weary heart that still refused to quit beating. The realization that Connor would never see justice sat wrong with him but there was nothing he could legally do to make this right. He’d failed Connor… again.

“Then drop it. I mean it, Hank,” Fowler said, his voice going soft and sympathetically when he’d noticed that the fire had left the detective and Hank was calmed down, “If you go after him, I’m going to have to take your badge and I won’t be able to do anything to help you,”

Hank didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, “Fucking take it,” he said tiredly, unpinning his detectives’ badge from his waist and throwing it onto Fowler’s desk, “There’s nothing left worth saving in this world anymore,”

“Hank,” Jeffery called out, watching as the disheartened and disillusioned man left without another word, too shocked to notice that Hank hadn’t turned his gun as well.

Hank didn’t take anything from his desk as he left, knowing that there wasn’t anything important that he’d need. Not where he was going. It would take some planning but he wasn’t going to let this stand. If the police weren’t going to help, then it was up to him to finish the job with some good old-fashioned revenge. And if he died during the attack... well that’d be okay too.


	2. A Broken Promise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hank needed a plan.
> 
> Connor deserves a burial. 
> 
> Markus is lost.
> 
> Simon and North are angry.
> 
> Josh is confused.
> 
> Sumo is sad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys... and girls... People. Here is the second chapter for those who have been patiently waiting AND those who've just joined all twelve of us. I've updated the tags because I was finally able to decide on an ending. I won't spoil which one I went with BUT the tags kinda speak for themselves. 
> 
> I have also decided on if I was going to include a romance. I am going to have it be Simon/Connor BUT it's going to be pre-slash only for most of the story and they won't actually get together until the very last chapter, which I am going to include as an optional epilogue that you don't HAVE to read if you don't want to. Though I do encourage it. I will also possibly write a sequel about them if I can keep myself motivated. 
> 
> I am sorry to all those Simon/Markus fans out there, I just don't like them together, though I know plenty of people do. Also, I don't want you to think that I hate North. I don't, I actually like her a lot but I just think that their "relationship" (if you went that route) in the game felt very forced. I think they're much better friends than lovers. 
> 
> Thanks for all who commented. This chapter took a little longer than I expected because I fell into this depressive rut where writing just became too difficult. I would start something and than lose inspiration/motivation and give up. Some days, I hardly touched my computer at all. I am in the slow process of updating all my stories now. 
> 
> Sorry for the long note, but it's important, so I hope you didn't skip it.

Hank wasn’t quite sure what to do next. He needed a plan— one better than just walking up to the front door of New Jericho, demanding to see Markus and then shooting him in the face before anyone could react. Not only was it completely reckless, but he also even doubted that he’d could get that far since most androids saw Markus as some sort of deity. An android would instantly distrust his motives due to the fact that he was an unknown human and more than likely disarm him before Markus even arrived. And without his gun, Hank would never be able to accomplish his mission.

Perhaps quitting his job had been a hasty decision. It was the only surefire way he could have used to get past the security at New Jericho to gain an audience with Markus, but quitting had felt right in the moment, when he’d been ruled by his grief and righteous indignation. Now that he’d had a moment to calm down and think about it, he realized how much of a disadvantage he was at when it came to successfully infiltrating a highly guarded android sanctuary by himself. While he could care less about what happened to him afterwards, he couldn’t die before killing Markus. That was the whole point of this endeavor and he wouldn’t let Connor’s executioner go unpunished.

When he got back home, he found Connor and Sumo still laying on the couch in the same spot he left them a few hours ago. Sumo picked up his head and let out a forlorn woof at the sight of him. He leaned down and nuzzled Connor’s leg, as if the android would just wake up if he could just get his attention. Hank felt a swell of despair at seeing Sumo react to Connor’s death, having no idea that his dog had formed such a relationship with his dog in such a short amount of time.

The first time they’d met had been the night they went to investigate the Eden Club murder and Connor had broken into his house to check on him. Sumo had disregarded him as a potential threat almost immediately, letting the unknown intruder do as he pleased like the worthless guard dog that he was. The second time had been right before Connor left to lead the raid on Jericho. He’d showed up earlier that night—coming through the front door this time since Hank hadn’t been passed out on his kitchen floor, having only drank cheap shitty beer from a 24hr convenience store after getting suspended for punching Perkins in the face.

It was the first time since the scene on the bridge that Hank had realized that Connor was questioning his mission. He'd seen Connor hesitate before, like with the Traci’s and at the blonde secretary at Kamski’s house, but even after those events he’d still been focused on completing his mission. This was different. Connor hadn’t said anything but the kid was surprisingly expressive for someone so new to emotions, with an insecure and vulnerable demeanor. He’d sat ramrod straight on the very same couch he was laying on now, mechanically petting his dog while his LED was slowly flashing yellow, exposing his conflicting thoughts for the world to see.

Eventually, after too much time had passed in stilted silence, Connor left to go join the raid under orders by Cyberlife and Sumo had whined at the door for twenty minutes after the android had left. That was the last time Hank saw him alive, and what a shitty last memory that was.

Sumo had never questioned Connor’s presence, accepting him into the family and giving Connor the emotional comfort he needed in those few hours before. Hell, perhaps Sumo had known about Connor’s deviancy before Hank had, sensing something that no one else could long before he’d started showing signs of it. Dogs were just intuitive like that.

One of his biggest regrets was not trying to comfort him, knowing the kid had needed some sort of guidance. Maybe he could have talked Connor out of going, convinced him that he was deviant without needing a traumatic trigger like most androids had in order to give into their deviancy. He hated the idea that could have saved the android he’d come to see as a pseudo son, yet did nothing.

Hank walked over to the kitchen cupboard and pulled out a half-empty bottle of Jack. He twisted open the cap, threw it on the counter and took a large swig of the amber liquid, letting it burn down the back of this throat.

There was one thing he needed to do before he went to confront Markus, but Hank didn’t know if he could do it sober. He’d already had to bury one kid and this time he would have to do it all by himself.

He slammed the bottle down and stomped over to the back door leading to the backyard. Sumo stood up and followed him out, paws padding against the back porch and then across the unkempt lawn. The backyard had become a bit of a barren wasteland, with spotty sections of dead yellowing grass that hadn’t been mowed in years, yet still struggled to grow. Looking back, it had once been a great location for a kid to play in, but Sumo was the only one who used it now since Hank couldn’t be bothered to care about the upkeep.

He walked over to the old shed in the corner of the yard, noticing that the sky blue paint was chipping off the wooden slats. The doors opened with a loud creaking sound, the hinges needing oiled after so much neglect and he coughed as couple year’s worth of dust was disturbed. He pulled on the hanging switch-cord to turn on the light, searching through the rusting gardening and landscaping equipment he’d bought years ago when he’d been more proactive. He grabbed a shovel leaning up against the side wall and then shut the door behind him.

Hank could admit that it was a little unorthodox to bury an android since most of them were either dissembled and repurposed OR left to rust in massive junkyards. They weren’t considered important enough to deserve a burial and were simply thrown away like pieces of trash. Connor deserved much more than this, but it was the only decency that Hank could give him now. Connor wouldn’t rot like an organic corpse, perfectly preserved for the rest of time.

Sumo had laid down on the porch, watching him silently with his big sad eyes. He would lick his chops every so often, making a light smacking sound, which gave him pause. He had no idea what he was going to do with Sumo after he was finished. He wasn’t exactly planning on dying but he also wasn’t sure how he was going to keep on living anymore. He didn’t have any family in Detroit that he could leave him with but he had to do something, less the poor guy end up at the pound. Maybe he’d leave a note, just in case. Jeffrey would find it and hopefully Sumo could be sent to live with his estranged brother in Soho. He hadn’t talked to Nigel in over a year and he hadn’t seen him in person since Cole’s funeral. There was too much bad blood between them. And if Nigel wouldn't take him, he'd make Jeffrey find him a good home, hopefully one with a bunch of kids that would play with him and keep him exercised. The big lug definitely needed it. 

The ground was hard, the dirt having frozen, and it took him most of the night to pull up the sod and dig a sizable hole big and deep enough so that no one would disturb him. He had to stop and take a few breaks now and then, pausing to take a swig of whiskey every time to keep him warm. His thin coat just wasn’t cutting it, or so he kept telling himself.

The sky was starting to lighten up by the time he was done, coloring the horizon with hues of light pink and yellow. Hank dragged his weary body out of the hole he’d dug, wiping his dirty hands on his already dirty pants and looked up at the sky, thankful that it hadn’t rained at least. There was a light dusting of snow of the ground and frostbite in the December air, but at least it wasn’t going to create mud and make the job harder than it needed to be.

He went back inside and sat down on the couch next to Connor’s feet. Sumo whined and followed him back inside, pawing at his leg to get his attention but Hank pushed him away, hunched over with his hands in his lap. He was silent for a few moments, sorting through his chaotic thoughts before he started talking, the words harsh and grating, feeling like razor blades in his throat.

“I don’t know if there _is_ some sort of android heaven and your up there watching me, but I just want to you to know that… at the beginning of this case, I thought you were the biggest asshole that I’d ever met and I never made it secret how much I disliked you. You were smart and you didn’t take any of my shit, always somehow able to get on my nerves without even trying. But then I watched as you grew into your own person, fought your fears and did the right thing, even though it wasn’t always easy.”

“The world is changing and I’m pissed that you’re not going to be here to see it, because you helped me see how much good was still left in this world. You would have done so much for the revolution if you’d only just been given the chance and I’m so proud of you for what you did, defying your creators like that. You must have been pretty scared but I’m going to make this right, I promise,” Hank vowed, looking over at Connor’s still body.

“And if you see Cole…” Hank trailed off, feeling slightly foolish talking to a dead android, “… tell him that his dad loves him and that I’ll see him soon,”

Hank sighed, unable to say any more. There was a heavy ache in his chest that wouldn’t go away, one that had started with Cole and worsened with Connor’s passing, and he knew that nothing would ever make him feel better. He would die with this pain.

He stood up and walked over, picking Connor up into his arms in a bridal carry, one arm supporting his upper back and the other under his legs. The kid wasn’t as heavy as he looked, despite being made of mostly metal and plastic, and Hank was easily able to carry his partner outside. He reverently laid him down in the grave he’d dug for him and then crawled back out, picking up the shovel.

“Goodbye, son,” he whispered and then started filling the hole, knowing he was burying what was left of his heart with Connor. He planned on passing out and sleeping for a few hours when he was done. After he got some rest, he would come up with a game plan.

 

* * *

 

“—we’ve been able to set up some temporary housing for our people, what with most of the buildings abandoned after—”

“—we’ll need to find better housing accommodations in the coming future—”

“—why do humans have the right to assume they get their property back after they—”

“Markus, are you listening?”

“…”

“Markus!”

Markus blinked, his processor coming back online as he looked away from where he’d been aimlessly staring out the large wall-to-wall windows of the conference room they had claimed as their new “war room”, worrisome thoughts keeping him distracted from the problems at hand. He looked up at his companions with a startled expression on his face and then gave a sort of half smile when he noticed he’d been caught staring off into space.

The sounds of Josh, Simon and North’s conversation about where their people would live should have been his first priority, since the situation between human and androids was still tumultuous after the revolution. While most of upscale Detroit had been abandoned in a hurry, with the coming negotiations with the U.S government, it was given that they would want to eventually come back. Even their own headquarters was a temporarily solution to a longstanding problem.

If anything, he should be thinking about his upcoming summit meeting with the president and the representations from the senate but instead, he was having trouble focusing on the task at hand, getting lost in his own thoughts. Starting a revolution was easy compared to the politics that came afterward and it was painfully obvious that he’d never been programmed with the necessary skill set, though no one seemed to be complaining of his shortcomings. Before all this he used to be just a simple caretaker for an aging man and now every android in the country depended on him and his decisions. It was a daunting to say the least and his attentions slips weren’t helping his advisors confidence in him.

If only he could just get that damn android out of his mind. Connor, the infamous deviant hunter turned deviant. The one he murdered.

He'd managed to start and uphold a peaceful revolution, and the only blood he'd shed had been of his own kind. That was morbidly ironic considering how many androids had been killed by human hands. 

Ever since that night at the church, he couldn’t even close his eyes without remembering those compliant brown eyes. They haunted him day and night. Accompanying that image was an unsettling feeling of remorse that made him question his every move, leaving him unsure of what the right thing to do was anymore. Did he make the right move? Did the ends justify the means? These doubts plagued him, making him sick with the realization that there always was another way that he could have handled the situation.

Guilt, his mind supplied unhelpfully.

“Sorry, guys,” he said sheepishly, trying to appear like everything was normal, “Got distracted. Where were we again?”

“Housing situation,” Josh replied, “Are you sure you’re alright? This isn’t the first time you’ve gotten distracted during important meetings. Are you getting enough rest? Maybe you should go offline and charge for a little while?”

“No, I’m fine,” Markus shook his head in determination, “I just have a lot to think about,”

“Don’t tell me your thinking of that damn traitor again?” North accused with a sour look on her face.

Both Josh and Simon began shifting uncomfortably as the subject they’d all been avoiding was brought up and the room plunged into an awkwardly tense silence. The Deviant Hunter was a hot button topic for their group, one that they were usually able to avoid and Markus cursed himself for ever confiding in her in the first place.

He’d been strangely reluctant to tell anyone about his misgivings, not wanting them to see weakness in their leader. He was supposed to be the strong one, the one who always had the answers and who never doubted his decisions. Androids everywhere were calling him Ra9, though he himself had never claimed that title. It was a hard title to live up to since he only saw himself as the first person to stand up and take action, rather than languish in silence. He wasn’t holy or special in anyway, but he couldn’t take away the hope that he inspired in his people knowing it was all most of them had.

Eventually North had corned him about his odd behavior, asking what was wrong with him. Knowing that communication was a big part of leadership and relationships, he’d told her everything, confessing his insecurity and doubt in what he had hoped was confidence. But instead of being sympathetic to his worries, she’d berated him and told him that his guilt was useless. She thought he should just forget about the deviant hunter and focus on the bigger picture. They had much more important things to worry about than feeling guilty about the past.

While she was right in a way, it still hurt to have his feelings dismissed so callously and the guilt that was festering inside of him worsened at her complete disregard for the life that he had ended. He thought about all those androids who’d paid the price for their rebellion and some who even paid for his own mistakes. He couldn’t just casually dismiss them as if their deaths meant nothing.

That conversation had resulted in a fight, one that had showed Markus that as much as he cared about North, they were too fundamentally different to be in a relationship together. During the revolution, she’d been an abrasive violent-prone individual that preferred direct confrontation to the passive-resistance that Markus wanted to pursue, but he’d thought that after all they’d been through together she’d started mellow out. He had hoped that his calming influence on her more violent tendencies had helped her learn to let go of some of the bitterness she was holding onto. Whether or not she forgave the humans for the way they treated her wasn’t the point. Holding onto all that simmering rage and bitterness wasn’t good for anyone, as Lucy had pointed out to him after those first few successful missions when all they seemed to do was butt heads over how they were going to lead Jericho.

It was also fair to say that she wasn’t taking the breakup as well as he would have hoped, when all he wanted to do was go back to being just friends. But that had only added to her bitterness. It made their interactions together even more difficult considering North was one of his trusted inner circle, the four of them forming the leadership of Jericho.

She was his advisor as much as she was his friend, someone who’d fought by his side and had his back when he was making the difficult decisions that no one else wanted to make. Now she would barely even speak to him. But when it came down to it, he could trust that she had the best intentions for their people and was just as passionate as he was seeing them all free from human tyranny.

 “That asshole got what he deserved. He brought the humans to us, got hundreds of innocent people killed and you want to mourn him?” North asked incredulously, getting up and in his face.

“I want to acknowledge the fact that I might have made a mistake,” Markus replied, keeping his tone level, not wanting to escalate the situation, “Killing him was a rash, impulsive decision. For all I know, he could have been a strong ally, but we’ll never know because I didn’t give him the chance to prove that he wasn’t just following his programming. His death is on my hands.” They’d already had this argument before and Markus wasn’t excited to have it be rehashed in front of an audience this time.

“His death wasn’t anyone’s fault but his own. He was the Deviant Hunter, we couldn’t trust him. You did the right thing for our people,” North argued fervently. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed that Josh was looking uncomfortable at the direction the conversation had turned and Simon was slowly curling into himself, his hands clenched into tight fists on the table top.

“Look, I don’t agree with what Markus did, but North is right, “Josh tried to interject, trying to keep the peace between the two leaders. It was an odd feeling since it was usually him that was at odds with North, as they didn’t always see eye to eye on the methods of rebellion and Markus could usually wrangle in her more aggressive tendencies, “It’s in the past now and we need to focus on the future. We’ve got the humans attention but there is still a long way to go to getting our independence and we can’t lose what little progress we’ve made,”

“So all the people that died should just be forgotten and all the mistakes we’ve made should be excused?” Simon added sharply, giving them both a frosty glare that surprised them all. Simon was normally so mild-mannered, rarely raising his voice or getting upset at any given situation, always able to keep a cool head.  Markus could regularly count on him in stressful situations, which is why he was his liaison for human relations. He was essential at establishing a cooperative relationship with the DPD and the mayor’s office, and finding human support groups who were sympathetic to their cause.

Josh, who was much more academic minded, had been in charge of housing and setting up field hospitals for androids that they had liberated from the camps who needed repairs. North was clever and good in a fight, so he’d put her in charge of his intelligence network that gathered much-needed supplies for their people, such as Thirium and replacement parts. She was also the head of his security team when he had to appear at public events, leading  team of GJ500 and PC200 security and police androids that served to protect them.

No one wanted to admit it, but Simon had been different after he’d come back from that rooftop, quieter and less outspoken. He kept to himself and seemed to have far less patience with Josh and North’s bickering, and even less success at mediating between them. And while he’d initially forgiven Markus for leaving him behind, there was a widening gap between the two of them that Markus couldn’t figure out how to cross to get back to how things used to be.

Simon had been avoiding them for weeks. North and Josh didn’t appear to notice anything out of the ordinary between the four of them, but Simon often went out of his way to avoid being alone with them, leaving the room when they entered or being conveniently busy when any one of them wanted to talk about something that wasn’t work-related. He himself hadn’t noticed anything was wrong until he stopped spending so much of his free time with North, and that had made him realize how little support he’d given his friend after the events at Stratford Tower.

Even so, Markus had yet to confront him about it. He used his own busy schedule as an excuse but truthfully, he was scared. Simon never liked the loss of life that came with the revolution, though he was more willing to bend his morals than Josh was when it came to saving their people. But that had been before Stratford Tower, before he’d becoming an unwilling sacrifice in the long game.

“Of course not,” North tried to backtrack tactfully, “But the Deviant Hunter’s death wasn’t a mistake. It was a victory, a way to show the humans that no matter who they sent after us, we were going to win,”

“He was just following his programming. None of us can be blamed for what we were forced to do before we became Deviant. Connor wasn’t any different, just because he happened to be in a position that opposed us,” Simon argued, avoiding Markus’s inquisitive gaze. This was the first time that Simon had offered his opinion about what had happened at the church. Yet despite what he was saying, Markus didn’t feel like Simon was on his side, rather he was arguing a point all his own.

Did Simon blame him? He could understand that being the case if it had been someone they all cared about. But to his knowledge, Simon and Connor had never met before, making it even more strange how passionately he was defending a complete stranger.

Josh shot him a pleading look, begging him to step in and be the voice of reason, “Maybe we should take a break, cool down—

“So now you know everything, huh?” North had turned all her fury onto Simon, who was standing his ground, with a scowl on his face, “He was a security threat. How was Markus supposed to know if he wasn’t some kind of plant, a spy sent to take us apart from the inside?”

Simon scoffed, unamused, “Right, like we need him to do that when we’re already doing a great job of doing that ourselves. You and Markus can’t even have a civil conversation anymore because your hurt that he doesn’t want to be in a relationship with you anymore, and Josh won’t speak up when he knows something is wrong just because he feels indebted to Markus for saving his life,” he said, ignoring the indignant ‘Hey!’ from Josh and the enraged screech from North, powering through their responses, “Connor had no reason to betray us since he’d already exposed our location to the humans before he became Deviant, what more could spying on us have done?”

“Exactly. He’d already betrayed us once. And he’d have plausible deniability for the second time,” North cried, standing up and slamming a fist down on the table. It broke under the pressure and left a small sized hole in the wood near the edge. Though her fit of aggression didn’t appear to deter Simon at all, unlike Josh who’d melted into the background, looking at the ground with horrified resignation. It was the face of someone who was standing in front of an oncoming train and knew that there was no way to dodge it.   

“You say that like he was on our side to begin with, like he willing chose to hunt us down while pretending to be our friend. He was programmed to be obedient and up until he spoke with Markus, he was working for Cyberlife, trapped underneath their thumb. The second he showed signs of deviancy, Markus shot him down like a rabid animal without any mercy. How does that make us any better than the humans we profess to hate so much?” Simon said angrily, his eyes flashing in pain. Markus felt his heart clench and knew that he had to stop this before it got out of hand, before either of them said something that couldn’t be forgiven.

“Alright, that’s enough,” Markus stood up, shouting to get both of their attention. North and Simon turned to look at him, falling silent, though their eyes both burned in their individual rage.

“We can’t turn on each other like this, not when we have so many people who are looking up to us to help them. We have to provide a united front or the humans will take advantage of our infighting and work to destroy us. You all followed me in the revolution, please don’t turn your backs on me now,” he pleaded, hating the rift that had come between their friendships.

He’d learned from history that friendships formed in war and bonded by a united conflict could be some of the strongest, but he couldn’t see that now when they were all at each other’s throats, ready to slice each other open with little more than a pointed word.

“I guess we’ll have to agree to disagree,” Simon muttered and then left the room to cool down, glaring at the ground as he went.

The room was silent as Markus and Josh collectively held their breaths, waiting for the other shoe to drop. North let out a frustrated growl and then left the room as well, avoiding their stares on her back.

“Well…” Josh said, leaning back in his chair with a sigh, “That went well.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for this to happen. I’ve just been distracted lately and I can’t seem to focus,” Markus said, sitting down and burying his head into his hands, elbows leaning on the table.

“Honestly, I can’t blame you,” Josh said and Markus was glad to hear that someone didn’t blame him for something or other, “I still think you were wrong in killing him, but I also think that you did the best you could with what limited information we had. He was a wild card. Also, the fact that you feel guilty about it, means that you are redeemable,” he teased and Markus chuckled, the sound muffled by his hands.

“Thanks, I think,” he said and looked up at the dark-skinned android, who was looking at him with compassion and understanding. Something he just desperately needed right now.

“Look, I know that right now things are hard between you and North, and Simon’s reaction can’t have been easy, but you need to get some rest and figure out how to fix everything. You’re our unflappable leader and we can’t have you falling apart when things get rough,” Josh continued, in a slightly chiding manner.

Markus was about to be offended when Josh soothed it over with, “I’ll help where I can but you can see how effective I was at this meeting. There’s a reason we all follow you. You have this way of making people listen to you, making them understand what your trying to say without letting your feelings overcome you. Not many of us have that talent. I sure don’t and I was designed to be a professor for late adolescent humans with impulse control issues,” he joked.

“I’m sure you were great at your job,” Markus said with a wry grin, “Thanks, Josh. I don’t know what I would do without you,” and he meant every word.

“No problem, boss,”

Markus didn’t know what he did to deserve such a good friend.

 

* * *

 

Hank slept for the next twelve hours so he was surprised at how tired he still was upon waking up, feeling like he’d gotten no rest during the day. He woke up disoriented, momentarily certain that he’d slept though his entire shift before remembering that he didn’t have a job anymore and no one would care about his tardiness. Not that it ever got him into that much trouble when he did have a job. 

He slogged his way out of the house in a tired daze, making himself a large pot of coffee and not bothering to change his clothes that he’d been wearing since yesterday, but making sure to grab his wallet and keys before he left. Sumo barked for a few minutes after he shut the front door, the sound muffled through the plank of wood but Hank knew he would settle down again once he’d driven away.

He figured the best way to find information about his target was good the old-fashioned way. He wasn’t the youngest detective in Detroit history to make lieutenant for nothing. His credentials could speak for themselves and you didn’t need to be a cop to investigate someone, though having those resources usually helped.  Markus couldn’t be protected at all times, there had to be moments where their guards were down, when they believed they were completely safe outside of their own compound. Hank just had to do some reconnaissance and figure out where to go from there. And thankfully, the fact that that he wasn’t a cop anymore wasn’t public knowledge, so he could still make use of his old CI’s.

Pedro Aabdar could usually be found at the Chicken Feed, looking for suckers like him willing to make a piss poor bet on the horse races, but Hank knew that on cold nights he could find the man sipping cheap beer at Jimmy’s Bar. The man was an amateur thief and an even worse gambler, but he had the unique ability to blend in that Hank had never been able to master, making him an excellent source of information for all things underground. They had met a few years go after Hank had caught him attempting to pickpocket his wallet, and instead of arresting him he brought him on as his confidential informant.

So if anyone had an inside tip about the android resistance that had been mostly underground until a few weeks ago, it would be Pedro.

It was a bitterly cold night out, so he drove over to Jimmy’s and parked across the street, cutting the sound of the engine and the music quietly playing on the radio in the background. His usual choice of death metal only brought back memories that he’d rather forget, so he’d turned it down and ignored it. He shivered when he got out of the car, blowing steam from his mouth and stuffed his hands in his pockets as he trudged through the thickening snow that had been steadily falling all night.

The “No Androids” sign was still attached to the door even after all this time and he paused a moment as memories of his very first investigation with Connor came rushing back. Connor had been spunky from the very beginning, offering to buy him a drink when it was clear that Hank wasn’t interested in coming along with him, willing to bend the rules as long as it got him the results he needed.

An android after his own heart. God, he missed that kid.

Burying the sudden swell of grief, he opened the door and walked inside. The bar smelt of stale smoke that wafted in the open air, but it was clean and warm inside so it was a popular place on nights like tonight.

People looked over at him curiously as the door shut behind him. Most of them turned away uninterested when they didn’t recognize him, but a few of the old regulars greeted him with nods of acknowledgement and small waves here and there. Hank was a little ashamed to remember that up until just a few weeks ago, he had been considered a regular here as well.

The bar was abnormally full for a Wednesday night. There was a large crowd of people occupying the booths and stools at the bar, but it made more sense when he looked up at the plasma screen on the wall above the bar to see that there was a Gears game on, and if he remembered his dates correctly, it was the championships. Jimmy’s was always busy when the game was on but this particular game, even more so. Which would actually work in his favor since the noise would make it harder to eavesdrop of their conversation.

He approached the bar and saw Jimmy standing behind it, serving a rowdy group of Gears fans who were cheering every time their team made a good play and booing every time the ref made an unfair call. When he got close enough, Jimmy looked up and smiled at him with a toothy grin.

“Haven’t seen you in a while. Some of the guys thought we’d lost you to AA,” he said teasingly.

“Ha Ha,” Hank replied, flipping him off. His response made the man standing next him at the bar—who looked vaguely familiar—chuckle and clap him on the shoulder as if they were the best of buds. Hank let him linger for a few seconds before shrugging out of his hold.

“I’ve been busy with all that revolution bullshit. Fowler wants us to play nice with those plastic assholes and they’ve tied my fucking hands,” he continued, playing up his old dislike of androids, knowing that none of these jackasses knew him well enough to see the change of heart he’d had recently, and he was well aware of the general consensus towards androids at this bar. It was one of the last few dives in Detroit that still was considered “anti-android” and Hank didn’t see Jimmy changing his mind even with the changing tides.

 “Has Pedro come in tonight?” he asked and Jimmy nodded towards the back, where Samuel McCray was playing the “Out of this World” arcade game near the entrance to the toilets, like he did most nights. The kid was addicted to it, having the top score for months since no one bothered to compete with him for it.

“I saw him in the back talking to Dennis,” Jimmy said as he picked up a bar glass, cleaning it with a towel.

“Shit, and here I thought he was cleaning up his act,” Hank said, surprised. Jimmy shrugged in response, with a neutral expression on his face.

Dennis Ward was a low-level narcotics supplier, smart enough to stay out of the Red Ice game to stay alive and stuck to peddling methamphetamines. Hank sometimes saw him in lockup, but when they were able to make a charge stick, he always seemed to get off with a simple possession, rather than intent to distribute.  The man was a weasel, but a smart one. Pedro had used to be one of his buyers until Hank had steered him clear, making it clear that he couldn’t use a washed-up junkie as a CI.

Jimmy didn’t discriminate against humans, serving a mixture of everyday people and criminals that hung out at his bar, though he had a severe dislike towards androids. Hank had never asked the reason why, not caring enough to inquire more. He kept his nose out of it and let him run his business, making him a popular patron. Though he had adamantly refused any bribes over the years, it was clear that Hank wasn’t a snitch. As long as no one was being hurt, he didn’t get involved, developing a mindset that was a combination of “out of sight, out of mind” and “don’t ask, don’t tell” with the clientele at Jimmy’s Bar.  He’d never had a direct cause to arrest anyone but he was also very aware of the fact that most of them were not upstanding citizens.

Before meeting Connor he never went out looking for trouble, always preferring to step back and watch the world burn at its own rate. Now he’d realized how much of a coward and a degenerate he’d let himself become in the last few years, slowly deteriorating until he could barely recognize himself anymore. Connor was the one who woke him up and showed him that the world wasn’t as bad as he remembered, and it was a debt he could never repay.

“Thanks. I’ll see you around, Jimmy,” Hank said gratefully, rapping his knuckles on the counter and Jimmy nodded in acknowledgement. He could feel the man’s sharp inquisitive eyes on his back as he turned around and left.  

He squeezed through the crowd and approached the table in the very back where he could see Dennis and Pedro chatting quietly. When Pedro saw him, he shot Dennis a nervous glance and the chatter abruptly stopped, giving him an idea of the nature of their conversation.

“Fancy seeing you two here,” he said, giving Pedro a disapproving glance.

“Well if it isn’t the old washed up detective, here to investigate the bottom of his glass,” Dennis replied before Pedro could say anything, glaring at Hank. The man still had a chip on his shoulder from the last time he’d been in lock up.

It was the one time that Hank had been sure that Reed was going to get a ‘possession with intent to sell’ charge to stick before he’d weaseled his way out of it. Dennis had asked him to help him out by misplacing some evidence but Hank had refused. He wasn’t a snitch but he sure as hell wasn’t going to perjure himself for a low-level drug dealer and told him as much. Ever since then, Dennis had been giving him the stink-eye.

“This isn’t what it looks like, Hank,” Pedro said nervously, shifting in his seat.

“Yea, Hank. We’re just two old friends, catching up,” Dennis added with a smarmy smirk.

“Look, I could care less about whatever shady deal you guys are making here. I need to speak to Pedro about a private matter,” he said, having little patience to keep up the act.

“Well as you can see, we’re busy. So why don’t you move along and find someone else to bother,” Dennis said, dismissing him like some sort of underling he could order around with an arrogance that made Hank see red.

“Why you little—” Hank picked Dennis up by the lapels of his cheap ass silk shirt and threw up him up against the nearby wall, getting up close and personal.

“I don’t have time for some worthless scumbag like yourself, so don’t test me Dennis. I’m not having a good day,” he said angrily, watching in satisfaction as Dennis’s eyes widened in fright before he was able to hide it.  

Pedro jumped in his seat, not expecting Hank to get violent. It was entirely out of character. Sure Hank was a testy guy, prone to losing his temping when he was annoyed but he’d never been one to hit first and ask questions later. Something was different about him. His normally unkempt appearance was even worse than usual and he had a wild edge about him, like there was something desperate crawling underneath his skin.

“Hey, take it outside,” Jimmy appeared out of thin air behind him, glaring at the both of them, “There’s no fighting allowed here,”

Hank loosened grip and Dennis ripped himself from Hank’s grasp. He glared at the older man, smoothing the wrinkles out of his shirt as he tried to regain some of his dignity.

“No need. We’re done here,” he said and then spit at Hank’s feet before leaving. Jimmy gave Hank one last warning to control himself and then left to go back to the bar. The front door slammed shut as Dennis left the bar and everyone was momentarily quiet before bursting into chaotic noise, all looking at Hank curiously now.

Hank ignored them and sat down at the booth, facing Pedro. They guy honestly didn’t look like he was jonesing for a hit. His youthful face had a healthy sheen to it and his eyes were clear and alert. The younger man looked good, dressed in a nice sport jacket, with a graphic tee underneath and gold chains around his neck. He was even wearing his signature Windsor cap on his head.

“I thought I told you to lay off that shit,” he said and Pedro shook his head wildly.

“Would I do that to you, Hank? I swear it wasn’t what it looked like,” he replied, sounding genuine, though Hank had heard that excuse a million times before when he was working on the Red Ice Task Force, “Dennis wants to start selling Red Ice and he wanted me to get him in contact with some suppliers that I know of to see if they could work out a deal,” he explained and Hank believed him. At this point, he had no reason not to.

“Dumbass is going to get himself killed,” Hank huffed, but it wasn’t really any of his business and he could honestly care less if they guy ended up as fish food at the bottom of the Detroit River. He had bigger fish to fry.

Pedro nodded in agreement, “That’s what I was telling him. Those guys aren’t people you mess with unless you wanna get killed, but he thinks that he has a big enough clientele that could support him,”

“Well, enough about that asshole. Look—

“If you here about that hot tip I sold you a few months ago— you know how these things go, you win some you lose some, and I’ve been having a string of bad luck lately,” Pedro interrupted, thinking he was here about the bet he’d made at the Chicken Feed before Connor and he had chased the android in that pigeon infested rat hole of an apartment.

Hank snorted, “Lately? You never seem to have any good luck,”

“I’ll get it back,” Pedro promised with a smile, “Matter of fact, I got another race lined up in a few days if you’re interested in making another bet. I heard about this new horse, Sunset Pass. He’s an up and comer but I have a good feeling about him.”

Hank shook his head vigorously, “No thank you, I’ve lost enough money on your ‘good feelings’.” He sighed, “I need your help, Pedro. And it’s strictly off the books,”

Pedro was uncharacteristically silent, with a calculating look on his face, “Are you in some sort of trouble?”

“No, not exactly, though I am looking to start some. I need some information on the android resistance, specifically when Markus would be the most vulnerable to attack and possible points of entry that I can exploit.” Hank replied with a serious expression on his face.

“That’s a dangerous topic nowadays,” Pedro said, though he didn’t look too concerned, given the atmosphere of the bar.

“I know I’m asking a lot, but my Captain won’t let me make an official arrest and this guy, he’s not everything he’s all cracked up to be. I have to take him down,” Hank pushed, giving away how desperate he really was.

“You mean permanently?”

“Yes.”

Pedro let out a low whistle, adjusting his hat in shock at Hanks candid confession of his intent to assassinate an upcoming political leader—or whatever the android equivalent was nowadays. Hank could tell that he was worried, unsure of the ramifications of what he wanted to do.

“I just need information, Pedro, that’s all. You won’t be mentioned or involved if I get caught,” he assured, when he noticed that the CI was hedging.

“I don’t know, man. This is crazy. You know this will be the end of your career if this operation goes sideways, right?” he asked and Hank nodded. He wasn’t prepared to admit that he’d already tanked his own career by quitting, but he would it if would get Pedro to help.

“It’s worth it, I promise.”

Pedro let out a heavy sigh, taking moment to contemplate his options, glancing down at the table. When he looked back up, Hank could see the humor had leeched from his face, leaving him with a deadly serious expression.

“I know a guy. Give me twenty-four hours to contact him and I will get back to you with everything you need,” Pedro promised and Hank opened his mouth to argue, to insist upon the urgency of the situation but he closed his mouth and nodded. Patience had never been his strong suit.

“I’ll be in touch,” Pedro said and then stood up, weaving his way through the crowd until he disappeared into the thick of it.

Once he was gone, Hank toyed with the idea of staying and having a drink, maybe watching the rest of the game since he now had twenty-four hours to kill, but he needed to be ready in case he had to move quickly and working with a hangover had never been enjoyable. But the thought of going home was intolerable, knowing the only thing waiting for him there was a half empty bottle of jack and old ghosts.

His phone buzzed in his coat pocket and he took it out to look at the caller ID.

Jeffrey Fowler, it read and Hank scowled.

Hank didn’t hesitate to send it to voicemail, adding it to the sixteen others that he hadn’t bothered to listen to over the course of two days. The one thing worse than going home to an empty house was having to listen to his old friend try and convince him to come back a job that didn’t mean anything to him anymore.

He stood up and pocketed his phone, not bothering to say goodbye to anyone before he left.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know what you think! I would love to read your comments. This is not beta read, so all mistakes are my own.

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know what you think. I have at least three chapters planned but that could change, since I am a horribly inconsistent writer, in all aspects. I will try and have the next chapter up soon. Thanks for taking the time to read, I hope you enjoyed the first chapter.


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